Miss Elizabeth's Captive

“You don’t want to have to keep him in diapers,” was her sole input in noting that full penectomies most times result in incontinence and the constant need for precaution against infection.

And so a decision was made and a date has been scheduled. I have three days remaining as an intact male.

“Sue Regal dropped off a copy of the complaint prepared against you Sam. It’s been filed with the Superior Court Clerk and can be brought before a judge with a simple phone call. So if you choose t

o change your mind...”

Yes, Miss Elizabeth has made it that simple. With a phone call, civil action will commence, and with Ms. Regal’s connections at the prosecutor’s office, criminal charges will be sure to follow. And the reason for the delay in filing?

‘The traumatized victim has needed counseling, your honor, and has not been mentally able to endure the pain of reliving the horrific crime.’

I can so easily picture the stern but unctuous Suzanne Regal, attorney at law, casually explaining away the weeks of procrastination. The law in fact permits years of delay.

But it is an unnecessary precaution on Miss Elizabeth’s part. I have no job, no home, and now no clothing or other basic personal items. There is no money for an adequate defense therefore the only other option is to plea bargain and go to jail.

But Jamie takes care of me. After shaving me, the little minx licks away and adoringly watches Little Sam rise. Chastity prevails, of course. But it’s nice to see the little guy engorge. His full tumescence will soon become something of the past.

In a strange way, I am eager to get the procedure over with. Afterwards I am told I will be more free to move about and Miss Elizabeth has hinted at me possibly assisting Jamie with her duties in the Mistress’s boudoir.

And as for Jamie, I am still undecided about his participation in the elaborate conspiracy. I have so much time to think, dangling in suspension day after day, but still cannot conclude. Has Jamie been playing along to please Miss Elizabeth, as a loyal and obsequious servant would do? Or does he truly want me, to care for me, to toy with Little Sam...to own something that was taken from him at such a tender age?

“Time to sleep.”

Suspended in a comfortable body harness with knees folded just inches from the floor, Jamie and I are face to face. The tiny manicured hands plug my ears and then a thick hood is drawn over my head. In total darkness, I will indeed sleep, the weeks of bondage becoming strangely acceptable. And I will dream…of Jamie...the blond ingenue Jamie...and of Miss Elizabeth...dashing, authoritative Miss Elizabeth. And Little Sam will celebrate his relative freedom by stiffening in the middle of the night as I fantasize. As always, he continues to have a mind of his own.

Chapter Twenty Eight

Wealth can command such power. It is amazing to think that Miss Elizabeth has the resources and influence to engage the services of one of New York’s top urologists and have her perform a questionable, if not totally unnecessary, procedure.

Nurse Stenson recommended Dr. Cynthia Wilson and the coterie of Dominant woman continues to impress.

“Ms. Mouquoud wants only local anesthesia, Sam. She insists. I’ve got your signature on the consent forms and the releases. You should understand the procedure and I’ll go over it one more time.

“And please, no tears. Be a big boy for me.”

Easy for her to say, I thought to myself. Her aphoristic admonishment begs the question as to how often she performs such alterations. “What Ms. Mouquoud has requested is basically termed a degloving of the penis tip. In other words, I will be removing the sensitive flesh at the end and on the underside which comprises the main pleasure centers. I will not be affecting or altering the corpora cavernosa, commonly known as the erectile chambers, and therefore within a few weeks of the procedure you should be able to achieve erection. It will be shorter of course, as Ms. Mouquoud has demanded, and you won’t have anywhere near the former sensitivity, but bad boys need punishment, Sam. And I understand you’ve been very naughty.”

Yes, Dr. Wilson seems to approach the procedure with exuberance, actually playfully toying with my ear as she enunciates her ending words with mocked seriousness. Hanging in suspension, her trifling hand causes me to helplessly swing. And long after she has departed I will sway, forcing me to think about her ominous visit.

With no general anesthesia, I will be watching as Dr. Wilson’s skillful hands deglove Little Sam.

“What will it look like?” I humbly ask stumbling over the words. With tongue freed of its daily stretching, I can talk, but with a piercing quite similar to Jamie’s, the words are difficult to properly form.

Dr. Wilson smiles with my question. “I haven’t really decided yet. You‘ll have to wait to see what kind of mood I’m in on the morning of the procedure. Sometimes if I’m irritated I’ll suture the remaining skin very tight and you’ll have a little pencil tip to show off. Other times, I’ll take the time to add shape. Best think of it as a surprise.

“And Ms. Mouquoud has also asked to me to inject a little something that will help you make the transition. Just a little Botox.” With that, Dr. Wilson turns to leave, walking sprightly with my question seeming to place her in a very pleasant frame of mind, I suppose reminding her of the power she will wield.

“Will I be able to ejaculate?” I call out in desperation.

Dr. Wilson pauses at the door and looks back with a devilish smile. “The Botox will address that problem. We’ll discuss it after you’ve healed.” Then she waves so insouciantly and steps out, leaving me to slowly swing in harness, pining for Jamie’s tender touch.

Chapter Twenty Nine

“Ms. Hobson is here. She needs you to sign some things.”

Pretty Jamie makes her announcement and looks at me with her clear blue eyes. She’s been exercising, necessitating the wearing of a loose sweat shirt and skin-tight, panty-like shorts which hike into the crease of her buttocks with her movement and show the halves of her smooth cheeks.

Little Sam celebrates her presence. With the days and days of forced chastity it doesn’t take much to draw his attention and get him to sit up like a begging dog.